


Ardainian Dog Walker

by MouseBird



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, its halloween month so werewolf time, while theres some implied stuff there isnt anything straight up nsfw i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 19:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseBird/pseuds/MouseBird
Summary: While searching for Turters in the middle of the night, Mòrag gets attacked by some strange creature. She wakes up the next day feeling kind of off.Or, Brighid uses one of her whipswords as a makeshift dog leash.





	Ardainian Dog Walker

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!

Out of all times for Zeke to realize that he lost Turters, it had to be at the middle of the night. If there hadn’t been a series of attacks on the local farm animals, they probably would have waited until morning to start looking for him. Never mind that whatever was killing big meaty animals like arduns probably wouldn’t be interested in a tiny little turtle but Zeke was worried about him anyways. Though if he was truly worried about his beloved pet then he should have kept a closer eye on his turtle instead of losing him at least six times every week.

But it’s fine, Mòrag and Brighid were out in the Gormott wilderness at night searching for a tiny little turtle because Zeke and Pandoria were their travelling companions, maybe even friends, though that was stretching it at times. Specifically when the pair was preventing Mòrag and Brighid from getting a full night’s sleep.

If they did cross paths with the turtle, Mòrag hoped that she would be able to see him through the darkness. While the stars, moon, and Brighid helped illuminate the surroundings, it was still hard to make out details. The long grass hid some things too, like a overgrown tree root that Mòrag hit her foot against, causing her to fall forward. A burning hand reached across her midsection, catching her before she hit the ground.

Brighid pulled her back up. “Be careful, Lady Mòrag,” she said.

Mòrag regained her footing and surveyed the ground in front of her using the limited light she had, making note of any other root or branch sticking out of the ground. She pulled down on her hat, hoping that it would help hide her embarrassment from Brighid’s closed eyes.

“Yes, thank you, Brighid,” Mòrag said, continuing to march forward.

While it was hard to see outside, it was not hard to hear the wildlife of Gormott. Ferises were snarling, volffs howling and there was some chirping too. Despite it being the middle of the night, the whole plain seemed to be awake.

There was also another howl that didn’t exactly sound like a volff’s.

Even with all of the noise they were making, the wildlife mostly left them alone. Hopefully the animals were leaving poor Turters alone too. That little fellow usually had good luck anyways, a requirement for any pet of Zeke to live as long as he had.

There was one creature that had the audacity to attempt to attack the two. It’s dark fur hid it against the night sky so at first glance Mòrag thought the creature’s teeth were just some large and misshapen stars in the sky.

She figured out what they were once they managed to break through the skin on her arm, ripping through her muscle and scraping against her bone.

Mòrag’s first instinct was to pull back, but that just caused a sharp pain to shoot up her arm. Warm blood started to trickle down her sleeve.

Instead she dug the fingers of her free hand underneath the gums of the creature and yanked its jaw backwards. A whine came from the chest of the creature as it jumped away to get out of her grip.

Now that the creature was not in the middle of ripping Mòrag’s arm off, she could see it more clearly. The poor lighting made it hard for Mòrag to make out the details of the monster but it’s silhouette looked like some sort of large dog or wolf with a human like build. It wasn’t a creature that she recognized but it didn’t seem to be a blade either as it had no visible core crystal.

The creature swiped at Mòrag, but now being more alert, she jumped back and dodged the attack with ease.

Mòrag grabbed one of her swords with her good hand, while throwing the other to Brighid with the one on the bad arm. She grunted as the pain spread out into her hand and to the tips of her fingers. Perhaps that was not the smartest of moves.

The creature brought its head to the ground.

It leapt forward, but all it came in contact to was two whips of steel and fire slamming against its head.

That seemed to have sapped it of its fighting spirit as it ran away with its tail between its legs, running away as fast as it appeared.

Brighid handed back the whipsword and Mòrag placed both of them back on her hips one at a time, not wanting to move her injured arm.

“Shall we head back to the hotel and have Nia look at that wound?” Brighid asked.

Mòrag stifled a yawn, the adrenaline rush from the battle fading away. “Waking Nia at this hour may just make my injuries worse but some rest should help,” Mòrag said. “Hopefully that damn turtle will survive until the morning.”

“Considering his owner’s bad luck, I bet the turtle had survived a lot worse than the night of Gormott.”

Mòrag hummed in agreement, suddenly lacking the energy to give a worded response.

The two headed back to the hotel. On their way back, Mòrag made a quick pitstop to gather up a few vegetables for the ardun that Rex wanted them to help raise.

When they returned to the hotel a particular pair was sitting in the well lit lobby, nary a scratch on them. They looked happy, care-free even. After all, a familiar green creature was crawling around on the table in front of them.

“Hey Mòrag, guess what! Turters was in my pocket the whole time!” Zeke said, waving at them.

Mòrag gave him no spoken response, in fact she didn’t even turn to look at him. Instead she headed to her room, her feet dragging against the floor of the hotel. She did use her remaining energy to give his chair one hell of the kick while on her way.

Zeke’s chair tipped over to the point where he wasn’t falling yet but one wrong move and he would be on the ground. He flailed about, trying to maintain balance. His chair tipped back further but he grabbed the table and pulled himself up before it was too late.

Brighid glared at Zeke and Pandoria when she passed them, showing them a small flame in her hand. One that was a perfect size for roasting a tiny turtle.

Pandoria picked up Turters and held him close to her chest to protect him. “Someone’s grumpy,” she said, the pair not quite out of earshot.

It was probably because Mòrag was ten seconds away from collapsing that there were not two charred corpses sitting in the hotel lobby after that remark.

* * *

A strange smell woke Mòrag up the next day. It was not an unpleasant smell, in fact, she wouldn’t mind burying her nose into its source and just inhaling it for as long as she could, if she could figure out where it was coming from. She turned to Brighid, who was softly snoring.

She looked around the room but saw nothing out of the ordinary, besides a turtle crawling in the middle of the floor. Seriously, They had already lost their turtle after everything that happened last night?

For curiosity’s sake, Mòrag picked up Turters and gave him a whiff. He smelled like a normal turtle, or at least what Mòrag thought was a normal turtle since she hadn’t exactly gone around and sniffed every turtle she came across. She gagged, he was definitely not the source of the mysterious smell.

Mòrag placed Turters back on the middle of the floor as she went to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

The smell was not as strong in there as it was in the room.

She stared at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. Had her canines always been this long? She shook her head, she probably was seeing things due to being tired from last night.

While she was at the mirror, Mòrag inspected the wound on her arm. To her surprise, there wasn’t much of a wound to speak of, instead there was freshly scarred pink skin where the teeth had sunk into her skin. She poked at the scars, there was no pain or any other reaction from it. Mòrag sucked in a deep breath and her eyes flew to her chest. She let it out when she saw no core crystal implanted in there.

Nia’s healing never left a scar, plus, Mòrag had been careful to not wake her when she and Brighid returned to their room so what the hell happened?

Staying in the bathroom wasn’t going to give her anymore answers so Mòrag returned to the room. There was another problem she had to deal with anyways. She scooped Turters up and opened up the door to the room. The door creaked loudly, waking up the one other person in the room.

That also eliminated another healer sneaking into the room, the door would have woken Mòrag up much earlier. The only other way into the room was through the window in the room that was cracked open ever so slightly, the gap only large enough for small animals. Mòrag had tried to close it when they first came into the room but the window did not budge.

Perhaps Turters could have done something? No, Turters was an ordinary turtle, probably.

“Where are you going, Lady Mòrag?” Brighid asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing her closed eyes.

Mòrag lifted Turters towards Brighid. “To return a guest that had managed to sneak into our room.”

Brighid audibly exhaled. “If I see that turtle one more time without its owners, I swear I will make us some roasted turtle. I hear it used to be a delicacy in Tantal.”

A small smile crept up on Mòrag’s lips. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Mòrag left the room. The smell was not present in the hallway, so the source of it must have been either in her room or something outside the open window.

When she reached Zeke and Pandoria’s room, she had to stop herself from kicking the door open. If she had broke the door, she would have to pay the hotel for the damages. It probably wouldn’t reflect well on her reputation either, and it was not the hotel’s fault that their guests were terrible pet owners.

Mòrag opened the door without knocking, an action she immediately regretted when she saw Zeke in all of his naked glory. She slammed the door shut.

Zeke opened it a second later. He still wasn’t dressed but he at least had the decency to throw on a pair of boxers.

There was a smirk on Zeke’s face that Mòrag did not like at all. “Wow, color me surprised, I didn’t know that the Special Inquisitor herself, Mòrag Ladair, was dying to get a look at the Zekenator’s hot bod-”

“Shut it,” Mòrag barked, followed by a growl in her throat.

Zeke raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

She took a deep breath to recompose herself, straightening her shoulders. “I am sorry for not knocking but a certain pet of yours snuck into Brighid’s and my room. If this happens again Brighid says she’ll cook him.”

Zeke gasped and grabbed Turters out of her hands. “She wouldn’t dare!”

“How about you and Pandoria actually keep an eye on your turtle so she doesn’t feel tempted to.”

“Fine. Turter’s greatness is lost on you two anyways. Even Nia-”

Zeke stopped talking when he realized Mòrag had turned around, not caring to hear the rest.

“Wait, Mòrag!” Zeke called after her. He stepped out into the hallway, still just in his underwear.

“What is it, Zeke?”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, I’m just a bit tired from last night. I’m sure you can understand.”

Mòrag headed back to her room. The smell returned when she did so, but this time it followed her when she and Brighid headed to the lobby of the hotel to meet up with everyone else.

It was then that Mòrag realized that Brighid was the source of the smell.

“Did you get new perfume?” Mòrag asked while they waited for the rest of the party to meet up with them.

“No, why?” Brighid asked.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Mòrag said.

“Do I smell bad?”

Mòrag looked at her hands which were resting on her lap. “No. The opposite, actually.” Mòrag held back revealing how much she loved it. It wouldn’t be appropriate to do so in public.

“So I usually smell bad,” Brighid said, frowning.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I-” Mòrag stopped herself when she heard Brighid’s laugh. Oh, she was just teasing. Mòrag sunk in her chair and hid her face in her collar. Someday she’ll be able to pick up on when people were teasing her, or at least that’s what she told herself to sleep at night. If that was the only thing she used to help her sleep, she would have had pronounced bags under her eyes, big enough to hold all of her pouch items.

Luckily for her, the rest of the party arrived in the lobby, saving her from further embarrassment. For now, at least.

* * *

The rest of the day was fairly normal. Rex had fed the ardun the vegetables that Mòrag had collected and Mòrag could have swore that the ardun grew right in front of her eyes. Zeke had confirmed her suspicions, wondering out loud if Turters will ever just suddenly grow like that. At least if Turters was bigger then it would be harder for Zeke and Pandoria to lose him,

After that Rex had the party help out various villagers, so business as usual.

Well, besides the part where Mòrag had to physically stop herself from throwing up when Rex went salvaging for parts that a nopon wanted. While salvagers usually did not end up smelling like roses after diving deep into the cloud sea, Rex had managed to pick up something extra rancid. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, maybe their noses were broken.

Besides that incident, the day was uneventful. Mòrag was looking forward to getting a full night’s rest, but sadly life had other plans.

Mòrag laid down in bed, and tried to go to sleep but every muscle in Mòrag’s body was screaming in pain every time she did something like even daring to breath. She didn’t even do anything all that physically taxing that day. The last time she remembered being this sore was the second day in her military training. Perhaps she was sick? Hopefully not, that would mean that she would have to take a day off or two to recover. Maybe even three days, any longer than that and death would be preferable. Wait no, it wouldn’t, even Zeke would call that being too dramatic.

Mòrag broke out into sweat and threw the covers off of her in hopes to cool off. When had the room become so hot, or was this another symptom of whatever mysterious illness was plaguing her? Architect, she hadn’t sweated like this ever. Heat was never much of an issue after she got used to Brighid’s flames. Plus, no other titan’s hot weather could ever compare to Mor Ardain’s.

Of course whatever was happening to her decided it would be fun to make her feel even worse.

It was like there was something trying to pull her apart, tugging at her limbs, jaws, and ears while also trying to drag her mind away from reality. It was accompanied by another uncomfortable sensation on her lower back, like something was trying to grow there.

Mòrag gripped her bedsheets in a feeble attempt to ground herself from all of the pain. A whine escaped her throat but it sounded more like a whimper from a hurt puppy.

There was something on her arm. A large furry caterpillar perhaps? Wait, no it was growing from her arm.

Fur. Fur was growing on her arm. It quickly grew over any skin it could find. Her arm was barely recognizable now, her hand looked like a mix between a human hand and an animal’s claw.

If Mòrag wasn’t so hungry, she would have been freaking out. Architect, how had she not noticed how hungry she was? The emptiness of her stomach dwarfed any other pain that she was in, though most of the other sensations had calmed down.

She should go grab something to eat. Something easy to kill, she was way too hungry for a proper fight. A bunnit or field armu perhaps.

There was nothing in the room to eat, so she had to leave. Going through the noisy door would probably wake Brighid up, so Mòrag chose the quieter option of just straight up breaking the window and jumping through it. Shards of glass dug into her skin but it was a small price to pay for letting Brighid sleep. She barely even noticed them over the hollowness of her stomach.

Mòrag made a beeline to the plains of Gormott. Right outside of Torigoth was a group of bunnits hopping around, begging to be eaten.

Mòrag pounced at one that was limping, snapping its neck in her jaws quick and easy. Before she could chow down, a familiar smell hit her nose. One that she would recognize anywhere. Brighid. Maybe breaking a window wasn’t so quiet.

She seemed annoyed too, yelling something at Mòrag that she could not understand. Maybe she was also hungry?

As much as she wanted to eat the bunnit in her jaws, the blood of it already coating her tongue, what sort of driver would she be if she let her blade starve?

Mòrag gently laid the bunnit on the ground and nudged it towards Brighid.

The bunnit was promptly set on fire.

Ah, she wanted something else to eat. Maybe she was craving fish. If she wasn’t, Mòrag wouldn’t mind eating some.

Mòrag dashed towards the closest pond. She tried to find any fish that was swimming in it, but she could not see or smell any. Instead all she saw was the reflection of the creature that had bitten her last night in the water. That creature must have scared off all the fish. It, also, had somehow managed to get on pajamas similar to hers, but it was all ripped up. The creature was in a lot worse shape than Mòrag remembered, shards of glass dug into its fur and it was bleeding way too much to be safe.

Mòrag swiped at it, the creature mimicked her movements but it missed or at least Mòrag did not feel the swipe connect. The water rippled, the creature was defeated.

She deserved a prize for her victory but Brighid still needed something to eat too. A creature big and meaty should be able to take care of both of those problems, but what creature could fulfill those requirements? An ardun, perhaps. Mòrag knew the perfect one.

She ran back to Torigoth, Brighid joined her in this run, yelling some more things after her that Mòrag could not make out.

A wall of blue flames had formed in front of her when she was right in front of the farms, but Mòrag just jumped through it, an ether link quickly forming and disappearing right when she did so. In that split second, Mòrag felt fear coursing through the link. Weird. Both her and Brighid would feel better with some food in their stomachs.

The prize was right in front of her, asleep on the ground. Good, the less of a fight it gives, the better.

Mòrag jumped on it and bit down on its neck. That seemed to have awoken it, as it started to thrash about in hopes to throw Mòrag off of it. Mòrag bit down even harder, not allowing herself to be dislodged. She felt its heartbeat through her teeth. A vibration joined it as the ardun whined in pain. Despite all the its thrashing, its pulse started to slow down.

Burning hands dug into her gums and tried to pull her jaw back. Mòrag let out a growl from her chest, her teeth remained in the neck of the ardun. Why was Brighid trying to stop her from eating? Architect, she needed to eat something now.

Brighid eventually released her from her grip and the ardun’s thrashing started to slow down until it stopped entirely. The ardun laid down and closed its eyes for the last time.

Mòrag dug into her kill, ripping out a big chunk of ardun meat before scarfing in down. She was able to get in one other bite before hot steel wrapped around her throat and pulled her back from her meal.

Mòrag whimpered and struggled against the makeshift collar and leash but it did not give.

Her meal grew smaller and smaller as Brighid dragged her away. The glass shards dug deeper into her backside as she was dragged against the floor, a trail of blood forming behind her. Eventually, she got sick of the pain so Mòrag rose to her feet and walked with Brighid to wherever she was taking her.

They arrived outside of the hotel window, which was smashed to pieces. Glass and blood mixed together on the ground below it.

Mòrag jumped back inside the hotel room, careful not to scratch herself on the broken window. Brighid followed in behind her.

Mòrag scratched at the whipsword around her neck but it did not loosen at all.

“Bad girl,” Brighid scolded.

Mòrag whimpered and lowered her ears. Despite her good intentions, she had made Brighid mad.

Brighid said some other things but yet again Mòrag could not understand what they were. She sat down on her bed and motioned towards her lap, something that Mòrag did understand.

She hopped onto the bed and rested her head on Brighid’s lap. Brighid ran her fingers through Mòrag’s fur. Soon there was a sharp pain as Brighid attempted to pull out a shard of glass.

A growl escaped her throat, her teeth bared. She didn’t mean to growl at Brighid but it happened anyways. She suddenly felt cold as warm hands pulled back from her fur.

Mòrag lowered her head back into Brighid’s lap and licked at the hand that was not holding the hilt of the whipsword. Brighid pulled her hand away and wiped the spit into Mòrag’s fur.

She resumed the petting, not bothering to try to pull out any of the shards.

Brighid’s warmth caused Mòrag’s eyelids to grow heavy. She closed them and quickly drifted off, her pain and hunger forgotten.

* * *

The first thing Mòrag noticed when she woke up was a warm hand in her hair. The second was a breeze coming from the broken window, hitting skin exposed from her ripped pajamas.

She sat up, her muscles protesting against the movement and the glass shards in her making themselves known. Still the pain was nothing compared to last night, though she had trouble remembering anything that happened after that.

How did the window break anyways? Did someone break in?

Whatever the cause was, she should probably get out of her ripped clothes. They didn’t really expose anything that Mòrag would have been embarrassed of, but the breeze was fairly cold.

Getting up ended up being a bad idea. Immediately the room started to turn and shake and, oh architect, which way was the floor again?

Burning hands grabbed onto her waist and pulled her back down to the bed.

“I’ll go get Nia,” Brighid said, racing out of the room.

Mòrag closed her eyes in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning. She wanted to throw up, tasting bile in her throat along with blood, for some reason. It did not seem like it was her own blood, but Mòrag was not sure how she knew that.

The sound of various footsteps came through the door and Mòrag felt healing ether wash over her.

“What the hell did you two do last night?” Nia asked, her question accompanied by the sound of glass hitting the floor as her healing pushed the shards out of Mòrag.

It was at that moment that Mòrag became aware of the steel of the whipsword wrapped around her throat. Wait, what did happen last night? No, no she would not allow her mind to wander there. She wasn’t someone who would forget a night like that anyways, or at least she thought she wouldn’t. The window should have been in one piece if that was the case too.

“Do you want to explain what happened, Lady Mòrag?” Brighid said, her voice tense.

“I don’t know what happened,” Mòrag said. The healing ether faded away and Mòrag sat up with help from a warm hand placed against her back.

“You really don’t remember last night?” Brighid said, an eyebrow raised.

Mòrag closed her eyes again, trying to recall last night’s events. “No, all I remember is having a weird dream where I turned into some sort of wolf and killed a bunnit.”

“That happened.”

Mòrag opened her eyes and stared at in Brighid with disbelief. “What,” she said. Brighid was surely just teasing her again.

“You turned into some sort of wolf human hybrid and tried giving me a dead bunnit. As much as I appreciate your gifts, that was gross so I burned it.”

She remembered the poor dead bunnit being set aflame, so it did actually happen. Mòrag’s brain tried to process the information she just learned, but it short circuited and a headache formed between her eyes. All she could do was repeat, “What.”

“It sounds like you may have contracted lycanthropy,” Dromarch butted in.

Werewolves were just a myth, one told to kids to stop them from staying out too late. There had to be another explanation, like, um… Yeah, no, that was the only one that made sense. Other things Mòrag had thought to just be myths had turned out to be true, after all.

Still, Mòrag found herself only able to mutter a single word reply. “Oh,” she said.

“Is there a cure? No offense lady Mòrag but chasing after you was more annoying than the Turters incident.”

The headache started to fade away. “None taken. Sorry to put you through all of that.”

“It’s a small price to pay to know that you are safe,” Brighid said.

Mòrag stared deep into her eyes, well, eyelids, but she was staring deep enough that she could practically see them. Brighid returned her stare and then some as she grabbed one of Mòrag’s hands in her own. Mòrag’s breath stopped in her throat and-

Nia cleared her throat, Mòrag pulled her hand back and Brighid’s returned to her lap. Right, they weren’t alone right now. Even if they were, Mòrag would have to brush her teeth before they started making out. Her mouth still tasted of blood and there was a taste in the back of her throat that she now recognized as dead ardun meat. Oh no, she killed the ardun that Rex had the party help raise. How was she going to explain that to Rex and Pekka, the boy that asked them to help?

“As far as I know, there is no cure but you’ll have to consult a doctor to be sure,” Dromarch said.

All the food they had gathered for that one ardun gone to waste…

“Ugh, that’s a shame. Will Mòrag transform every night? I do like not being sleep deprived,” Brighid said.

Out of all arduns she could have killed, why did it have to be that one? Hell, it would have been easier just to kill a wild ardun instead of going out of her way to kill the one in the farm. Mòrag would have to have a long talk with the wolf version of her.

“Hmm, I am assuming that she was just turned so she might transform each night for the next few days but after that it should just be every full moon,” Dromarch said.

Well, she might not be able to directly talk to the wolf, maybe Brighid would pass on the message.

“Good, once a month should be manageable,” Brighid said.

Nia jabbed her elbow into Mòrag’s side, dragging her out of her thoughts. Mòrag winced. “You alright?” Nia asked.

Mòrag rubbed where the elbow hit her, a bruise was already forming. She was alright until she was elbowed. Well, that was a lie. She was alright before that werewolf bit her, or maybe she joined the party. Hell, maybe even before she became Special Inquisitor. Or maybe, she never truly been alright, not after being born in the Ladair family and having to carry the weight of the Empire on her shoulders. Sure, Niall helped take some of the weight off, while adding more at the same time. It was just too heavy for her, but all she could do was carry it anyways. Wait, that was getting too emo, and Mòrag had promised herself to never get that way again, not after the emo phase she had in her young teens. Just thinking about it caused her to shiver. Brighid seemed to notice this and moved closer to her. The heat was appreciated, even if it wasn’t needed.

Anyways, that wasn’t exactly what Nia was asking anyways. She meant if she was alright for her normal standards, which if Mòrag was to actually answer the question she would give a vague, wiggly hand gesture accompanied with an “eh.” Instead Mòrag stated, “I killed the ardun.”

Nia pinched her eyebrows. “So what? You killed a measly ardun, not a big deal. We do that all the time.”

“No, the ardun,” Mòrag said, stressing the last two words.

Nia’s mouth formed an “oh” shape, then she frowned. “Damn it! I just gathered a whole bunch of food for that little guy!”

* * *

Explaining what happened to the window to hotel staff was not a fun time, or it probably wouldn’t have been, if they actually told them what happened. Instead Mòrag had just told them that it broke and that they shouldn’t worry about all the blood on the floor. She then gave them money to repair the window and some more to keep quiet about the situation. Having the news that the Special Inquisitor broke a hotel window go around wouldn’t have the best effect on her reputation. Upon seeing the horrified expression of the desk receptionist, Mòrag gave her more money for the trouble.

After all of that, it would probably be best if they don’t come back to that inn for a while, maybe ever again. There wasn’t really any other inn in Torigoth, so hopefully she could just stay at the military base for future visits.

Still, explaining it to Rex was going to be a pain. Usually when breaking bad news, she would just come out with it, ripping off the band aid so to speak, but a more tactful approach may be necessary in this situation.

She did not have much longer to mull over how she was going to break the news as the boy in question was walking towards her.

“Brighid said you wanted to see me,” Rex said.

“Yes, you may want to take a seat for this.” Mòrag motioned towards the fountain in the middle of the town and they both sat down on the ledge of it.

Rex stared at her, his eyebrows slightly stitched together.

She swallowed. Right, she had to be tactful about this and break it softly and slowly. “You know how when you are tired you sometimes do things that you wouldn’t do if you were fully awake?”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with it.”

Here goes nothing. “I killed the ardun that you had been helping to raise.”

Rex squeezed his eyebrows together so hard that they were almost touching. “You… killed the ardun because you were tired?”

“Well, no. I killed the ardun because I managed to contract lycanthropy. While I was transformed, I was not exactly right in the mind, like being tired.”

Rex took a few moments to process the information. His expression returned to the usual smile he had on his face. “Oh, alright.”

“You aren’t mad?” Mòrag asked.

“No. While it sucks that the ardun died, it seems that the situation was mostly out of your control. We’ll have to tell Pekka what happened but I don’t mind taking the lead for that.”

Mòrag smiled. “That would be appreciated. Thank you, Rex.”

“Yeah, no problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Sure, friends.

* * *

Pekka took the news fairly well. In fact he gave them another ardun to help raise. He, also, was grateful to finally know what had been attacking his farm animals anyways. He said he’ll plant wolfsbane to ward them off, which would effectively ban Mòrag from the farm too, not that she minded too much since that would prevent the incident from happening again. She just hoped he wouldn’t plant them too close to the military base.

After that was taken care of, the party boarded a ship heading towards Mor Ardain. Mòrag and Brighid were going to go alone, since it was just so Mòrag could see her family doctor, but the rest of the party wanted to come along too. Well, the more the merrier.

The ship crew didn’t mind all that much, particularly when the request was coming from the Special Inquisitor herself. They did raise a few eyebrows at her and Brighid’s request for steel cable. Mòrag did try to explain the situation after seeing their reaction, but they didn’t believe her, despite it being the truth.

“You don’t have to make up lies about werewolves or whatever. I don’t care what you two are up to, just don’t make too much noise,” the captain said.

“I told you it’s not for what you think it-” Mòrag stopped herself. She was the Special Inquisitor for fuck’s sake, there was no need to explain herself to people who clearly would not listen to her. She straightened her back and peered at the captain through her visor. “Yes, what use I have for the steel cable is no concern of yours. I’d appreciate it if you keep quiet about this request.” Now he would definitely have the wrong idea but whatever.

“Of course, Lady Mòrag,” he said, handing her the cable.

“Thank you, captain.” Mòrag returned to her room and handed the cable to Brighid.

She sat on the ground and leaned on a pole near the wall of the room. Brighid wrapped the cable around her and secured it. The steel had grown warm in Brighid’s hands.

“Comfortable?” Brighid asked.

“As much as I can be,” Mòrag said. She sighed when she felt a familiar soreness bury itself within her muscles. “Again, I am sorry for all of this.”

“I don’t mind,” Brighid said. She pushed the strand of hair that hung over Mòrag’s face away and gave her forehead a quick peck. Mòrag took a deep breath as she did so, inhaling as much of her scent as she could. “Though, perhaps you could repay me later,” Brighid whispered.

Mòrag’s heart sped up in excitement, but soon that was drowned out by an empty feeling in her stomach.

The growing and tugging sensations went and came quickly, the wolf not taking long to take over.

Mòrag thrashed against her restraints, eager to go hunting despite being nowhere near any hunting ground. She only stopped when she saw Brighid’s hand reach for her. Mòrag struggled against the cable again, but this time it was not an attempt to free herself. Instead she pressed her head against Brighid’s warm hand.

A smile tugged on Brighid’s lips as she stroked her fur. “Who’s a good girl,” she cooed.

Mòrag sure hoped she was talking about her. Her tail thumped against the floor. Her tailbone would probably be bruised in the morning.

A whine escaped Mòrag’s throat when the petting abruptly stopped. She leaned to nudge Brighid’s hand again but her head was only met with air.

Brighid had gotten up to grab a familiar green creature off the floor. If Mòrag was human right now she would have wondered how Turters gotten into the room when there were no windows and the door was locked shut. The space under the door was not large enough for the turtle to fit.

Brighid hissed something at the tiny turtle, before shoving it towards Mòrag’s face. Oh good, she could finally eat. Mòrag not so gently grabbed him using her teeth.

She spat him out not a second later. He was the dear pet of Zeke and Pandoria, her traveling companions, maybe even friends, though that was stretching it at times, she couldn’t eat him. Yup, that is why she did not eat him and not because it would be too much work for a very little amount of meat and not because he had, also, managed to roll around in something especially rancid before hand.

Brighid tried to find where Mòrag had spit the little guy out, but he was nowhere to be seen. The lucky turtle had managed to survive another night.

The petting resumed and when Mòrag licked her again, Brighid managed to wait a whole two seconds before wiping the spit into Mòrag’s fur.

At the end of the night, Brighid’s arm had become numb from all of the petting. Mòrag seemed happy though, so she did not mind.


End file.
